Violette
by Riyu-san
Summary: The youngest, and most dangerous of the Holmes'. Back in London after years spent away in Japan, but what secrets has she brought back to London? And who is she after?
1. Sumire

It was her. This was her calling card. It just screamed "Come find me!"

Violette.

Hidden, Dusk, or more commonly, Sumire, as the tabloids liked to call her.

She was almost untraceable, it ran in her blood.

A serial killer.

That's what she was. Each case was as unsolvable as the last.

And the case was handed over to Sherlock Holmes.

Each body had the word "bored" in japanese, and a small violet. Each was killed the same way, a knife shoved up, into the heart.

No weapons were ever found and no finger prints were left anywhere.

And, none of the victims were connected, had contact with each other or had anyone that would've wanted them dead. So why exactly were they being killed?

Only one man knew.

She was bored. What else was a girl to do?

They had been close once, her and her brother. But over time, she grew more distant, more cunning.

And with age she learned to manipulate, and how to lie and cheat and steal.

Because it was fun.

It staged off that boredom that hung over her head like a rainy cloud.

She could live a comfortable life if she pleased, she had people to get her that, or she could continued as she was, killing, and not getting caught.

But the few police officers who she wasn't in touch with, we're getting tired of the bodied piling up.

So naturally, Sherlock was asked to come in.

"Oh, for god's sake, do you really need me for such a boring case, Lestrade?" Sherlock asked with an annoyed frown.

"You won't think it's very boring when you look at the bodies."

"A serial killer, then? Oh, I love those."

Over all there had been ten murders, not including these recent ones.

Three bodies, in different parts of London, all in the same time frame.

The first, was Marilyn Steven. Twenty nine, married and worked as a secretary at the Bank of England.

The second, Geoff Tucker. Forty one, if he had lived another week, married, worked as a security guard, in Parliament.

And lastly, Frankie Dimartino. Thirty years old, single, unemployed.

What made this killer, Sumire, kill them?

The bodies were quickly taken to the morgue to be examined, and lined up next to one another.

"Female, the bodies weren't moved, suggesting the killer was too small to move the bodies. That or a small man." Sherlock pulled out his magnifying glass, examining the area of the wound.

"John?" The doctor walked over, looking at the stab wound as well.

"Right... Knife was thrust upwards, and into the heart... stopping it shortly after." John said, glancing at the three notes, and three violets on the near by table.

"Obviously spent sometime over seas in Japan, this is how they killed themselves to save face." Sherlock pointed out.

The flowers caught his eye as well and he gently picked them up, carefully testing their integrity.

_Violette_?

/\\\\\

I wrapped my coat up tighter, bracing against the cold, bitter winds.

It was getting pretty cold, especially for this time of year. The reports should be showing up soon. Let's see what their latest attempt is.

I bought a newspaper from the sleazy looking man at the end of the block, handing him the money. He smiled, and waved me off.

"Good seeing ya, Andrea." I smiled, shoving my hands back in my pockets and walking off.

I rounded the corner, making my way back to my flat. I unfolded the paper, quickly reading the summary on the Sumire case.

_Sherlock Holmes on the Case!_

I blinked in surprise not quite understanding what I had just read.

_Sherlock?_

_/\\\\\_

**So, I'm not sure if I'm going to write more of this, what do you think? Give me your feedback!**

**~Kyoko-Chan**


	2. Living in London

Lay low. That's what she told me. But I couldn't resist. They we just waiting for me like fat ducks. It's not my fault he made it obvious.

I don't know why I thought their deaths would go unnoticed. Especially with _him_ here. Oh, Sherlock. I certainly hope you're not as good as they say…

I unlocked my flat, stepping inside and out of the cold. I took off my dark purple pea coat, hanging it up on the coat rack, and hanging up my white scarf next to it. I heard creaking in the kitchen, and I glanced in to see Adeline.

The raven looked back at me and smiled. You could tell a lot of things from that smile, mostly that she was pissed off. I flinched, crumpling the paper in my hand slightly.

"I thought I told yo-"

"I know, I know. But-"

"No buts! You were supposed to lay low, but did you listen? Now, all of London knows about 'Sumire!" Ade hissed, her smile not faltering. I ducked, bowing deeply, a habit I picked up in Japan.

"Sorry, Ade. He sent them. I thought it best to get rid of them before they found out too much." I murmured. She walked over, lifting my head so that I looked her in the eye.

"Well, I guess I can't blame you for that. Anyway, how was your day?" I fell onto my old, grey chair, pulling a blanket over myself. Ade went back to the kitchen, to finch dinner.

"Alright, not very busy today though. Got pretty bored." I told her with a smirk. Her soft chuckle echoed to the living room and she turned to look at me, two plates in hand.

"Me too. Not much to do around the shop." Ade replied. She owned a small tea shop near Baker Street. She was originally from Japan, I met her there. We decided to come back to London. It was getting boring in the little village where we were living.

I worked in a pub, closer to the edge of London, in a not so good part of town. Lot of shady people there, but it keeps me informed.

"What are you making?" I asked, leaning over Ade's shoulder. She smirked at me, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.

"Always were impatient." I rolled my eyes, waiting for her to answer.

"Pancakes. Since we can't really afford to make anything else." Ade said, handing a plate of pancakes to me.

"Thank you!" I whispered, taking them from her gently. She laughed heartily, with her kind, feminine laugh.

After we ate, we talked. About London, about work, about family.

"Don't you have family in London? Don't you want to see them?" She asked, genuine worry in her eyes. I scowled, crossing my arms.

"No, since my brother is a detective, and the other one _is_ the British government, so I don't think I'll be risking it."

"I don't think they'll figure it out just but looking at you…"

"You'd be surprised." I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "Besides, my brother is investigating the Sumire murders."

"He is? Wait, your brother is-"

"Yes. Sherlock Holmes."

/\\\\\

Sherlock Holmes, the world's one and only consulting detective. He'd be able to figure it out faster than you can say, "Hello, how are you today?"

That had always bothered me when we were little. I would try and outsmart him, but it just wouldn't work. One look, and he would already know what I was up to.

But, I can't let him win this time.

He can't figure me out this time. He can't. I planned it so carefully, down to the last microscopic detail. There was no chance he could figure this out.

Except, the violets.

Part of me wanted him to know it was me. As if to say, "What are you gonna do about it?" What's the fun, if you don't get caught?

I missed him though. He was the only one that really understood me, that is until we grew up. Mycroft wouldn't pay me much attention, and I did help Sherlock tolerate others. We helped each other. I helped with people, he helped with deductions.

Plus, those idiots deserved it. They worked for _him_. I smiled to myself, remembering the girl begging for her life. Tch, she should've thought of the dangers before.

I knocked on the door, waiting patiently for someone to open. One of my informants told me Sherlock and a Dr. John Watson lived here. 221b Baker Street. How convenient that Ade worked down the street. I had been there enough to know the layout of the street in case I needed to get out, and I knew he wasn't home right now.

"Yes? Oh, are you here for Sherlock?" An older woman asked. I smiled kindly at her with a quick nod.

"Just go upstairs, Sherlock just went out for a minute, he should be back. But Dr. Watson is up there." I thanked her, and took a deep breath. A stair creaked loudly under my weight and I jumped from fright. I guess I was more worried than I thought.

"Hello? Who are you?" It was a shorter man, with sandy blonde hair and clear blue eyes. He held his shoulders back, like he had been in the military at some point, and the footsteps I heard suggested he had a limp as well. But, he seemingly ignored the fact, so it was psychosomatic, chances are Sherlock already addressed it.

"Violette." I answered, putting my hands in my pockets. The man, held out a hand to a chair in the center of the room, asking me to sit. I nodded, gracefully slipping into the seat.

"You here for Sherlock Holmes I'm assuming? He should be back soon." He told me.

"Yes, the woman downstairs told me that." His brow furrowed for a moment, before he nodded in recognition.

"That was Mrs. Hudson. Oh, I'm Dr. Watson by the way." He introduced. I smiled, brushing a stray piece of hair from my face.

"I've read your blog. Is he really that good?" I asked, leaning back casually. Dr. Watson smiled, looking down briefly before meeting my eyes again.

"Yes, annoyingly good." I chuckled softly, smiling to myself.

_Same old Sherlock._

I heard the same creaky stair that had scared me, creak under the weight of someone new. My heart quickened, and I resisted the urge to run out of the room. I bit my lip, waiting for him to come in.

"Sherlock, you have a client." I turned slowly, facing my brother. His eyes still glowed with intelligence, and that same cocky air still hang about him. He really hadn't changed a bit.

His green eyes landed on me, and a flash of recognition passed them. And I could see the cogs turning in his head, figuring out every detail about my life as he made his deductions.

"Sherlock?" Dr. Watson questioned, waving a hand in front of the man's still face.

"Hello, Violette. How've you been?" I covered my mouth, looking down. I realized how lost I was without him. It was like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders.

"G-good." I sniffled. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me into a short awkward hug. I smiled, wiping away a few tears.

"Where've you been?" He asked, sitting me back down in a chair. Dr. Watson, looked between us, totally lost.

"Oh, you know. Around." I said, with a chuckle. He frowned slightly, his gaze drifting to my right hand. I glanced down, before shoving my hands back in my pockets.

"I've heard a lot about you recently. Dr. Watson's blog is quite interesting." I told him.

"Hmm. I'm on the Sumire case now. Have you heard of it?"

"Yes, my flatmate, Adeline was telling me about it. How many was it?" I asked. He was testing me. How had he already figured it out?

"Thirteen I think it was."

"Have you figured it out yet?" I asked jokingly. Sherlock's gaze hardened for a moment before returning to their usual sharpness.

"No. Not many clues left at the bodies. We just have to wait for Sumire to slip up. All serial killers do."

_I don't intend to do that, brother of mine._

"Where'd the name _Sumire_ come from?"

"Japanese for violet. Which has been found at each of the bodies."

"Maybe you could talk to Ade about it. She loves mysteries. And she's from japan, she might be able to tell you something about it."

_Totally not true. Looks like I'm going to have to throw Ade under the bus. But, if they suspect Japanese…_

"Hmm. What are you doing here anyway?" Sherlock asked, leaning forward. I smirked at him.

"What, I can't visit my brother when I come back from a trip?" I teased. I saw Dr. Watson gape out of the corner of my eye.

"_Brother?_" He asked. I nodded.

"That's right. I'm Violette Holmes. Nice to make you're acquaintance." Dr. Watson shook his head.

"There's _three _of you?" Sherlock rolled his eyes, and looked at him sharply.

"Yes. Didn't I even mention that?"

"No, you didn't. I don't know why I though you would tell me since you never tell me anything." Dr. Watson muttered.

"Aw, lover's spat?" I suggested, with a wink. Sherlock stared at me evenly, while Dr. Watson struggled to find his words.

"I'm not gay!" He objected. I snickered, covering my mouth to hide it.

"What else have you been up too?"

I left after a few hours of catching up. I made both of them promise not to tell Mycroft I was in London. But of course, with him being the British government, a cab showed up.

/\\\\\

"Hello, dear sister. Back in London?" I sighed, walking over to my eldest brother.

"Of course. And I know you're just _dying _to know where I was, yeah?" I asked, with a raised eyebrow. He smirked, leaning on his umbrella.

He had taken me to an abandoned storage facility. Water formed puddles on the ground, and the air smelled of rotting wood.

"You know me too well. So, where was it?" I smirked at him, crossing my arms.

"Oh no, brother. I won't be sharing that. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, you have enough on your plate, or, so I've heard. I have ways of obtaining information, Mycroft."

"Well, I have my ways of digging up information as well, Violette, remember that."

"I never forgot. Now, why don't you give your baby sister a hug?" I suggested, holding out my arms with a slight pout. Mycroft grimaced and strolled past me, only meeting my eyes briefly. He swung his umbrella casually, opening his car door.

"Be careful, Violette. Sherlock isn't the brother you used to know."


	3. My Brother's Job

Adeline was straightening up the flat, like she did as soon as she returned home. It was usually a mess by the time she got back.

I had the day off today, since it was Sunday. But then again, it's always time to drink for those uncultured rats that show up in that pub.

I left all my books and notes laying all over the short, dark wood coffee table. And there were a couple used coffee mugs from the few cups I had made while working.

Ade threw a few of the extra blankets into the matching grey chair across from mine, tying to move some things out of her way.

"I swear, if I wasn't here, you would never find anything."

"Hey, it's organized. Just… not to your standards." I chuckled, sipping some of my now cold coffee. Ade rolled her eyes, tucking a loose piece of hair back into her tight bun.

I rubbed my hands, wringing out the cramps from writing. I had found a few more people that needed to be gotten rid of.

Eliza Green, single, worked as a nurse at St. Bart's. She had connections with him too. Same with Max Haywood, married, two sons, both graduated from Universities they had no business in being in. Worked as a higher up official in security.

I smirked, adjusting my position to look at the papers better. They all lead back to him. It was a little difficult to see, but the connection was there.

They all pointed to him.

"Who are they this time? Spies?" Ade asked, putting a few unimportant papers into a pile. I shook my head, glancing at her for a moment.

"No, informants. Not major players, but still in the game." I muttered, shoving them all into an unmarked file. It was more than enough reason to go after them.

"Why do you have to do this? Can't you just let it be?" I glared at her, crossing my arms.

"Of course not. He's dangerous. He doesn't deserve to walk the earth. But, I can't just go kill him. Then, all his little strings and spies would come after me." I snapped.

_And if they do find out who, they'll all think it's you, Adeline._

"How was work?" I asked, rubbing my temples, trying to lighten the mood. She shrugged, and started to tell me about the cute guy that had come in.

_Boring, boring, boring. Just… relax Vi, just let her talk… You can go out later…_

"Weren't you going to see your brother again today?" Ade asked. I blinked in surprise, before tapping my chin in thought. It couldn't hurt right?

"Yeah, I think I'll do that now." I muttered, getting up. I went to my room, and quickly got dressed in skinny jeans and a large, teal jumper that went down to my thighs. I got my tall, dark brown boots, tucking my knife into the left boot. I pulled on my scarf, and pea coat, strolling out the door with a single wave to Ade.

The three flights of stair barely fazed me, as I was deep in thought. I needed to get close with my brother again, so I can see how close he is. However, if he's anything like he used to be, he won't tell anyone until the last moment.

I hailed a taxi, giving the driver a smile.

"221B Baker Street."

/\\\\

I jogged up to my brother's flat, taking a deep breath before knocking. The woman, Mrs. Hudson, opened it again, and she instantly recognized me.

"Oh, you're the girl from yesterday, Sherlock's sister… What was your name again, love?" She asked, letting me in. I smiled, and said, "Violette Holmes. At your service, Mrs. Hudson." She laughed, showing me up the stairs.

"So polite, unlike your brothers. They could learn a thing or two from you!" I chuckled softly, taking off my coat and scarf.

"I doubt I could do anything. They've been like that since we were little. You can imagine how many times I've had to bail them out, especially Sherlock." I told her with a grin. She nodded in agreement, popping her head into the flat, glancing around for the two.

"Oh, Sherlock! Look what you've done!" Mrs. Hudson scolded, sweeping up a few papers from the floor. I smiled, striding over to the two seats. I took Dr. Watson's, since it looked more comfortable. The woman quickly left after placing the papers on a desk, fussing about making tea.

"Hello, sister. What brings you over?" Sherlock asked, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. He held his violin at his neck, and his bow ready, with his fingers delicately arched into place.

A few things were out of place, and he had a couple odd scratches on his table. Must've been someone here before me.

"Unlike you, I like to visit my friends. But apparently, you're too lazy to even to do that." I bit, hugging the union jack pillow to my chest.

"We both know I don't have friends, Violette. How is work at the pub? The one on the edge of town, yeah?"

"It's been good. Hear a lot of things. Quit smoking I see? Or at least trying. How touching."

"And I suppose the man you've been hanging around is just a friend? Oh wait, it's two isn't it?"

"I could say the same for you, Sherlock." I retorted with a smirk, and a glance toward the kitchen table. He scowled at me, plucking a few random notes that hurt my ears.

"Mycroft find you yet?"

"How'd you guess?" He shrugged, a faint smirk on his lips.

"Lucky." I smiled back, throwing the pillow at him. He leaned to the right, letting the pillow hit the window.

I was tempted to say I missed him, but I knew he wouldn't say anything back, he has no use for sentimentality.

"Have any new cases?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"No." I tipped my head to the side.

"Still nothing on Sumire?" Sherlock remained silent, plucking a few strings mindlessly. I rolled my eyes, leaning back in the chair.

I heard footsteps come up the stairs, it sounded like Dr. Watson. Out of the corner of my eye, I confirmed it, and noticed the angry frown on his face.

"Hello, Dr. Watson. How was shopping?" I asked, keeping my eyes on Sherlock. I faintly saw him gape at me, but shook it off.

"Right… I didn't get the shopping." He announced, his frown looking slightly deeper.

"What? Why not?" Sherlock asked, turning to look at the doctor.

"Because I had a row in the shop with a chip and pin machine." He grumbled. I moved over to Sherlock's seat, so he could have his. He looked at me briefly before nodding in thanks. He glanced around for his pillow, but shook his head and cast it off.

"You had a row with a machine?" I asked, stifling my laughter. I liked this one. Dr. Watson sighed, giving me a look.

"Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse at it. Have you got cash?" He asked, glancing around. Sherlock nodded toward the kitchen, where I assume his wallet was.

"Take my card." He told him. Dr. Watson went to go to the kitchen, but turned half-way with an annoyed sigh.

"You know, you could always go yourself. You've been there all morning." I snickered again, giving Sherlock a knowing look.

"What happened about that case you were offered, the jaria diamond?" He asked, picking up Sherlock's wallet.

"Sounds important." I commented, knowing my brother thought it was boring.

"Not interested." Sherlock muttered, putting down his violin, kicking something further under my chair. "I sent them a message." I smirked, looking up at him. He gave me a 'be quiet' look, before turning his attention back to his flatmate.

Dr. Watson noticed the scratch, but didn't give it too much thought. He looked at Sherlock who shrugged slightly, same time as me.

He sighed, getting ready to leave again, when I jumped up.

"I'll come with you, Dr. Watson. It has appeared that my brother hasn't changed _a bit_." I suggested, pulling on my coat. The doctor nodded, and waited for me to get ready. I smiled, walking past him and pulling him with me.

"We'll be back later!" I called to Sherlock, leaving the building.

/\\\\\

"So, what's it like living with my brother? Hasn't given you any trouble has he?" _Said anything about Sumire to you?_

He shook his head with a dry smile.

"It's… interesting to say the least. Always on my feet." I hummed, watching a couple at the end of the aisle, who were debating what they should have for dinner.

_Boring._

"Dr. Watson, what was it like, in Afghanistan?" I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets. He looked away for a moment, which confused me slightly. I gasped in realization, and touched his shoulder.

"Sorry, if that was out of the blue. I just got curious. Sorry." I whispered, biting my lip. He looked back at me, watching my face for a second before he shook his head.

"No, it's… fine. And you can call me John." I smiled and nodded, taking his arm and leading him to the next aisle.

/\\\\\

"We're back!" I yelled, throwing some of the bags on the already crowded table. John stopped to look at Sherlock, who was on a laptop at his desk.

"It that my laptop?" He asked, taking a half step toward him.

"Of course." Sherlock replied matter of factly, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"What?" I interrupted, looking over his shoulders at his emails. But of course, he moved in the way so I couldn't.

"Mine was in my room." I rolled my eyes, and smacked the back of his head gently.

"You couldn't be bothered to get up?" I asked, giving him a playful glare. Sherlock gave me a half smile, like he knew better than me.

"Its password protected!" John stated in disbelief.

"Please. Sherlock will find a way to get into anything." I told him, putting my hands on my hips. John marched over, taking his laptop away from the man. I snickered, falling into Sherlock's chair.

John picked up a few papers from the side table as he sat down in his chair. Overdue bills? Still on his army pension then?

"I need to get a job." He muttered, placing them back on the table. I tapped my fingers against my leg, thinking to myself.

_I need to get the job done tonight, or else I'll lose my chance. Eliza's going out of town tomorrow. Probably to give him the details. And Max would be on a business trip tomorrow as well… _

"I need to go to the bank." Sherlock interrupted, jerking my out of my thoughts. I looked at him in confusion, but remembered the email I had gotten a quick glance of.

John looked baffled, but jumped up to follow the detective. I shrugged, and jogged after them.

_I still have time. _

/\\\\

The taxi took us to the building that was supposedly a bank. I sized up the building as we walked in, it was at least thirty stories.

The inside was crowded with business people who were boring. They were predictable, and didn't do _anything_ out of the ordinary.

I noticed Sherlock deducing them, but I didn't even try, what good was there in it?

He was wearing a long, darkly coloured coat, and a blue scarf. I smiled, looking down at my own scarf. Lighter colors looked better on me. Ironic that he looked more mysterious than me.

"Sherlock Holmes" He told the secretary. She looked slightly flustered, but let us up to the wherever we needed to go.

Once we go to the correct office, we were greeted by a man, about Sherlock's age. The way he walked and talked suggested he was a busy man, let's try to waste his time shall we?

"Sherlock Holmes." He greeted, shaking my brothers hand. I stifled a laugh at how stiff the hand shake was.

"Sebastian." Sherlock returned the greeted, before releasing the other man's hand.

"It's been at least eight years since I've seen you?" He asked, which was quickly ignored.

"This is my friend John Watson, and my younger sister, Violette Holmes." Sherlock introduced, gesturing to us. I smiled, holding out my hand.

"Nice to meet you." We shook hands and he looked at Sherlock with curiosity.

"You've a sister?" He asked. I nodded, smiling again.

"Yes, but he never mentions me." I told him with a slight pout. Sherlock gave me a sharp look, but held his tongue.

_Good boy._

He and John shook hands, and Sebastian went to sit at his desk. I leaned against the wall, listening intently.

"Do you need coffee, water, tea?" He offered. I shook my head, waiting for him to explain why he called Sherlock.

"So you're doing well. Been abroad a lot." I smiled to myself, remembering all the times I had watched Sherlock's deductions and tried to do it myself.

"Well, some."

"Flying all the way around the world twice in a month." My brother pointed out. I raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out how he knew.

It was his watch, right Sherlock?

Sebastian chuckled, smiling a little bit.

"You're doing that thing again, aren't you? We were at uni together, and this guy here had a trick he used to do."

"It's not a trick." I commented, crossing my arms. Sherlock glanced at me, only to look back at Sebastian a moment later.

"He could look at you, and tell you your whole life story."

"Yes, I've seen him do it." John told him, with a look in Sherlock's direction. I smiled again, proud of my older brother.

"Put the wind up everybody. We hated him. You'd come down to breakfast in the formal hall and this freak would know you'd been shagging the previous night." I gritted my teeth to keep from saying anything. I hated when people called Sherlock a freak. Even when we were little.

I would get in fights a lot, defending him. But eventually, Sherlock told me to stop, that he could handle himself. I still didn't trust that, but he has John now.

"I simply observe." Sherlock replied, with a face that looked like he was running out of patience.

"Go on, enlighten me. 'Two trips in a month all the way around the world.' You're quite right. How could you tell? You're going to tell me there was a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only get in Manhattan?" I noticed John smirk drily.

I scowled at the man. Was he insulting my brother? Right in front of me?

"Or maybe there's mud on my shoes?" Sebastian added with a grin.

"I was just chatting with your secretary outside. She told me." I smirked, walking closer to the two sitting down. Sebastian laughed, and Sherlock gave him a fake smile.

"I'm glad you could make it over. We've had a break-in." _Finally. The reason we're here._

"Sir William's office, the bank's former chairman. His room's been left here like a memorial. Someone broke in, late last night." He explained, leading us to said office.

"What did they steal?" John asked, looking around. Sebastian turned to us, with a small grin.

"Nothing. They just left a little message." We stepped into the office, which had a large desk, and a view of the other buildings.

A painting hung on the far wall, with the eyes spray painted over with yellow paint, and to the left of it, was another symbol.

Sebastian went on to explain when it was done, showing us the video. So it was done within a minute. Interesting.

"How many ways into the office?" I asked suddenly. He took us down to the lobby, showing us how the security worked.

"Every door that gets opened is logged here. Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet."

"That door didn't open last night?" Sherlock asked, in his usual monotone. Sebastian sighed, fixing the button on his jacket.

"There's a hole in our security. Find it and we'll pay you. Five figures." He took a slip of paper, a check, out of his jacket, and held it out to Sherlock.

"This is an advance. Tell me how he got in, there's a bigger one on its way." He added.

"I don't need an incentive, Sebastian." Sherlock stated, walking around him to leave. I smiled, and followed him, eager to get back to the office.

He took pictures, and I just observed, happy just to watch him work.

"What do you think?" Sherlock asked, not looking away from his phone. I shrugged, walking a little closer to the paint.

"Maybe he had access to the security system, or climbed. I don't really see anything else." I muttered, touching the paint gently. I heard him hum in agreement, obviously satisfied with my answer. I walked out to the balcony, looking down at the busy street below.

We were really high, could someone really climb that?

They could, but not my people have a death wish.

When I came back in, Sherlock was hopping around the office, earning weird looks from the other office workers.

He stopped, taking a name tag off the wall. I rolled my eyes and went over to him.

"What are you doing? Can't you just write it down?" I asked, my hands on my hips. He gave me a look, before John came up to us.

"Ready to go?"

As we walked, out John asked, "'Two trips around the world this month.' You didn't ask his secretary. You said that just to irritate him." I laughed.

"Of course he did. I would of done the same thing if he was talking to me like that." I scoffed. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Please. You would've tried to fight him." He replied.

"How'd you know?" John asked again.

"Would you care to explain, dear sister?"

"His watch, right? The date?"

"In a month?"

"New watch. Am I right?" I asked, confident in my deductions. He nodded.

"You've been practicing." He commented. I smiled proudly.

"Every day."

"That graffiti was a message, to someone on the trading floor. We need to find who it was meant for." Sherlock muttered.

"There's three hundred people up there, how do we find out who?" John asked. It dawned on me. That's what Sherlock had been doing, hopping around.

"Pillars." He answered simply.

"Some of them block the message to some of the desks. It's only visible to a few of them." I said, looking at Sherlock for reassurance. He nodded.

"And the time it was left gives us a lot. Traders come to work at all hours. Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. It was intended for someone who came in at midnight," He held up the name he had taken earlier. "Not many Van Coons in the phonebook."

/\\\\\

We showed up at an apartment building, where this Van Coon lived. I glanced at my watch, to see it was getting late. Looks like I can't put it off anymore.

"You guys, I have to get home or Ade's gonna yell at me. Tell me anything important when I see you again, okay?" John nodded, and Sherlock didn't respond which translated to 'no promises.'

I hailed a taxi, driving to Max's house first, since his wife and kids went shopping. They went every Sunday.

I knocked on the door, stroking the violet I held in my hand. The door opened to reveal the man, still dressed from work. His beard still had crumbs in it from eating lunch.

I looked at him sadly, and said, "Sorry, but I'm from outta town and just got lost trying to find my aunt's apartment, can I use your phone to call her? My phone died on the way." I explained sheepishly, using the American accent I had practiced.

He blinked, letting me in. He told me where the phone was, with the low, old voice he had, that sounded like he smoked for most of his life.

"Right in that kitchen." I nodded, going into the kitchen with a quiet 'thank you'.

I got the knife from my boot, finding him back in his living room.

_What a shame I have to ruin the furniture. _

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, Mrs…?"

"Mrs. _Sumire_!" I whispered, jumping over the couch, and plunging the knife up into his heart. Only a small amount of blood got on me, but I wiped it off on one of the blankets on his couch.

His breaths died down, and his brown eyes grew glassy. I smiled at him, gently closing his eyes with my hand.

I pulled his hands up to his chest, tucking the violet into his large hands. I placed the note over his eyes, so that it would be noticed immediately. It said, _Bored_, in Japanese like it always said, written in nice calligraphy.

_Your turn, Eliza. _


	4. Offers and Addictions

I sighed, looking over Eliza's peaceful face, before I slide the note next to her head. I brushed my hair back with my fingers, glancing at her again.

She wasn't that pretty. Plain looking, with messy honey coloured hair. And her skin was pale, and chilled, like it was, well, winter.

Blood soaked through her white shirt, betraying the fact that she looked to be asleep.

I softly closed her door, dusting off my clothes. It doesn't get any easier. I slowed my breath and tried to calm down.

Footsteps came up the side walk right towards me, and I immediately recognized the gait.

"Hello, sister. How are you?" _Shit._ I whipped around, facing Mycroft, with a semi-interested expression.

"Oh, Mycroft. Just visiting a friend. Can I ask why you've graced me with your presence? You are a _busy_ man aren't you?" I asked, trying to sound casual. Mycroft sighed, giving me an eye roll.

"Don't try to lie to me. Your hands tell me everything I need to know about your _friend_." He observed, holding up my hand. I snatched it away, trying to still the tremor. I glanced at them, noticing the small specks of blood on my fingers.

"Are you going to turn me in?" I spat, with a crooked grin. He simply turned, beginning to walk away. I jogged to catch up with him.

"Where are you going?" I asked angrily, walking at his side. He kept his eyes ahead, stepping into his car.

"We have a job for people like you, sister dear. Who will do anything for justice, and those they care about. How about it? It's him you're after right?" He asked, letting me in the car.

I stayed silent, rubbing my hands together. Mycroft would be able to help me, but Sherlock was the one tracking me down. If anyone told him to stop, he would know something was up.

I would have to listen to my brother, and I'm not so sure I could do that.

"What if I refuse your offer?"

"I'll simply let you continue. Sherlock will catch on rather quickly, don't you think?"

"Are there any conditions?"

"Just the usual surveillance, can't have you taking out anyone important can we? If you were ever captured, you can't say you're with the government, which could cause… complications. Your targets would be assigned to you. And, naturally, you couldn't say anything to Sherlock." He explained, looking at me for a moment.

"So, I would be an assassin. I'm not sure if I'm cut out for that, brother."

"Oh, your little record says otherwise." I quickly shifted my gaze to the window.

"How long have you known it was me, then? Since the beginning?" I wondered, tapping me chin in thought.

"Since I saw you a few days ago. It was in your face. You've changed, dear sister. Perhaps for the better. And of course, I would need you to spy on Sherlock for me, if that's alright." I glared at him, crossing my arms.

"And why should I do that?" I huffed. He simply raised an eyebrow.

"For not turning you in. And for letting you continue for this long. So, will you accept?" I looked down for a moment, weighing my options.

_I could be killing people who the government deems guilty. I would have to do research before on the target, so I don't kill anyone truly innocent. And what if someone is? Do I help them disappear? _

_And how could I spy on Sherlock for him, what does he even need me for? Doesn't he have cameras in his house anyway? _

"I suppose I don't really have a choice, do I?" I muttered, combing through my hair with my fingers. He shook his head with a smirk.

"When have you ever had a choice with me, Violette?" I sighed, looking at him.

"Normal brothers would never blackmail their little sister."

"We've both known for a long time I'm hardly a normal brother. Off you go, try not to cause too much trouble. Actually, expect to see Anthea Tuesday evening. I have someone I want you to meet." We pulled up to my flat, rain just beginning to make its appearance.

"Oh, and do try to keep that little habit of your under control. I fear you are worse than Sherlock."

"Alright. See you then, Mycroft." He nodded, and I closed the door. I jogged up to my flat building, glancing back to see Mycroft's car gone.

I climbed the stairs, panicked and worried. How was he going to deal with Sherlock?

The flat was empty, I guess Adeline was working late. I stumbled to my room, leaning heavily on the wall for support.

I picked up a lot of things from my brothers. Deduction, the attitude, the same cockiness, and the snide remarks.

But of course, those could be weighed as good or bad. This on the other hand, was defiantly not good.

My hands shook violently, and I felt jittery. I sighed, throwing my coat onto my bed, trying to ignore the painful nagging at the back of my head. I grit my teeth, laying on my bed and staring at the ceiling.

_No. I promised myself I would stop. _

I balled my hands into fists, and I tried to think about something else, but the feeling of foreboding wouldn't go away.

I swallowed, glancing at the draw for my bedside table. I inhaled sharply, jumping up and throwing it open.

I took in the familiar sight. The dark blue cloth I kept there, with the small case of needles.

_Why did he have to know? Why did he bring it up?_

I was ashamed. I was ashamed and scared that people would be disappointed in me. Even Adeline didn't know. How had it happened again?

Right, it was research.

I was checking to see what exactly Sherlock was doing. I found him with the needles, which I took from him.

Couldn't hurt to try it once? I wanted to see what the big deal was. My curiosity had gotten the better of me yet again. I didn't blame Sherlock. I couldn't. It was my fault.

Rolling up my sleeve, I took in the numerous marks from pervious times. I shook my head, looking at the empty draw.

_Listen to Mycroft for once. He has a point you know._

I quietly put the things back in the draw where they belong, closing it shortly after. I laid back on my bed, steadying my breathing yet again.

The door creaked, telling me Ade just got home. I pulled my coat on, making sure not to look over there anymore. I left my room, standing at the hallway entrance into the living room.

Adeline poked her head out of the kitchen, a confused expression on her face.

"Why are you just standing there? I got take-out if you want any. You have to get it though, I'm tired of serving you." I walked numbly over, trying desperately to ignore the nagging.

"What's the matter? Aren't you going to eat?" Ade asked, bringing out a plate for me anyway. I took it from her, staring at the food.

"I-I'm going to S-Sherlock's." I stuttered, shoving the plate back and her and putting my hands in my coat pockets. Ade blinked in confusion, but nodded, taking her seat nearest to the telly.

I rushed downstairs, not looking back. I just couldn't deal with cabbies right now, so I decided to jog to Sherlock's flat. I'm sure I looked half mad, which, I suppose I was.

His flat was farther than expected, but I didn't pay it too much attention. The lights of the streets were so overwhelming I couldn't take it.

I ran inside the building, ignoring Mrs. Hudson's attempts at saying hello. Running into the small, crowded living room, I saw Sherlock and John look up at me in shock.

"Violette? I thou-"John started, but I cut him off.

"S-Sherlock, c-can I stay here t-tonight?" I asked, stumbling over to a chair, trying to hide from the nagging, but it wouldn't go away. My thoughts kept going back to the needles, and the cloth.

"Violette, what's wrong?" John asked, pulling me to him, closely examining my eyes. I realized I had been crying. I tried to wipe them away, but Sherlock caught my hand. His green eyes sparkled with worry, even though I knew he would never admit it.

He rolled up my sleeve, looking the marks, and bruises.

"Oh, Jesus." John muttered, running a hand through his short, blonde hair. I looked down, trying to avoid their gazes.

"How long?" Sherlock asked, rolling it back down.

"How l-long what?"

"Have you gone without it?"

"About t-two d-days. M-Mycroft told me t-to keep it un-nder control but I-I can't. I-I'm no-"

"Able to? That's not the Violette I knew." Sherlock told me matter of factly. I stared at him, my mouth hanging open.

"Do you need a glass of water?" The blonde asked, eyebrows raised worriedly. I nodded slightly, wiping my eyes again.

"I-I'm sorry I d-disappointed you, S-Sherlock." I muttered, rubbing my arms. He grabbed my hands, holding them still.

"Since when do you listen to Mycroft?" I avoided his eyes, looking up to see John with a glass. I took it thankfully, giving him a small smile. We sat in silence for a moment, as I gratefully chugged the water. I took a deep breath, before saying,

"I-I can't g-go home."

"Why not?" John asked, going back to his seat. I stayed silent, glancing at Sherlock.

"That's where it is." He stated, taking my coat off for me.

"That's where what is?" Sherlock looked at him sharply, looking down at my arm, and back up at him. The blonde's eyes widened for a moment.

"I g-guess I don't r-really see all impressive compared to my b-brothers now, do I?" I chuckled drily. John shook his head, a slight frown on his face.

"No, I think you've all got your problems. Try to relax. I'll ask if Mrs. Hudson can make you something to eat." I smiled gratefully as he left to go find the landlady.

"Who else knows?" He asked, going back to his seat.

"Mycroft. T-that's it. I-I don't really make it a p-point to tell people." He nodded, tenting his fingers. I was worried.

I still thought he was angry, ashamed and disappointed. Who wouldn't? He just wasn't saying it, to be polite, wasn't he?

Here I am, a pretty, intelligent, and I've worked so hard for everything I have, but I'm throwing it away on some stupid habit.

Tears ran down my face again, and I struggled to hide them. I sniffled, covering my mouth to quiet the hiccupping.

_What a waste. __Violette Holmes, the addict of sister. _

_Sherlock and Mycroft stood over me, with their cocky sneers. _

"_Nice to see you. How've you been, sister? Have you overdosed yet?" Mycroft teased coldly. I got up, trying to match their height, but they've always been a least a foot and a half taller. _

"_Shut up, Mycroft!" I screeched, stomping my foot. _

"_She's not even trying. Look, she's boring. Just another predictable addict." Sherlock bit. I cover my ears, backing away from them. _

"_Stop it, you two! Please!" I begged. They chuckled, closing the gap between us. _

"_Oh, no." Sherlock scolded._

"_We've not yet started. Let's see what you've been doing, dearest sister." I turned to run, but they were there too. _

"_Where are you going?" Mycroft asked, mocking my tone from earlier. _

"_I thought we were having fun." He added, swinging his umbrella casually. _

"Violette!" John called, shaking my shoulders. I hugged him, burying my face in his shoulder. He rubbed my back comfortingly, softly telling me to calm down, and that's it's alright.

I hated myself. Why did I have to? It's so hard, I can't even function if I go without it too long. I sighed sadly, pulling away.

"You hate m-me don't you, Sherlock. Y-you think I'm pathetic, don't you. Why don't you just say it? _I'm a disappointment!_ I know I am! S-so why… _Why don't you say anything?!_" I yelled, glaring at him fiercely.

To say he looked shocked, would be an overstatement. He looked _annoyed._

"Oh, please. Be quiet, you're being ridiculous." I gaped at him, pulling my hair.

"_Sherlock!_ Apologize to your sister!" John barked, crossing his arms. Sherlock sighed, getting up from his chair again, walking over to me.

"What exactly do you want? Do you want me to _lie_? To say you're a _disappointment_? To say you're a disgrace? You're not, Violette. You're my sister. Now please, calm down. We can figure it out how to deal with it tomorrow." I stopped pulling my hair, looking at him in shock.

John even looked a little flustered, looking between us. I sniffled, and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He stiffened up immediately at my touch, but I held onto him. His heartbeat helped calm me down, and the nagging started to die down.

"Here, you shoulder eat and get some rest." John said as I pulled away. I nodded, taking the food.

I hungrily ate it, not really tasting it, since I was just trying to get something in my stomach. I hadn't eaten since noon.

"You can stay in my room. Try not to touch anything." Sherlock told me, picking up his violin. I promised I wouldn't, and I went to his room.

It was cluttered with papers, and experiments, that looked questionable to say the least. His bed looked unused, with the blankets neatly spread across it. They were scarlet, with soft looking white pillows.

I found a shirt of his, and comfortable looking pants. I pulled them on, realizing Sherlock was a lot bigger than me.

The shirt reached my thighs, and the pants almost fell off my waist, and bunched up on the floor. I pulled them up, in an attempt to be able to walk, but the just fell back down.

I shuffled back to the living room to say good night, and I found Sherlock playing his violin.

The music was soothing, not like when he was randomly plucking the strings. It was a song I recognized. He used to play it for me when we were kids, and I couldn't sleep.

I was terrified of the dark then, he had the bedroom right next to mine, with Mycroft.

_I poked my head in, scurrying into the dark room, trying to find my eldest brother. I shook Mycroft, trying to wake him. He rolled over, opening an eye. _

"_What are you doing, Violette?" He asked, yawning. _

"_I'm s-scared, it's dark in my room." I whispered, trying not to wake anyone else. _

"_It's dark in here too. Just go back to sleep." He whined, shooing me with a tired arm. I whimpered, and was prepared to leave, but I bumped into something. _

_I looked up, to faintly see curly hair, and eyes that were slightly reflective in the light that came from the window. _

"_What're you doing?" _

"_Scared, it's really d-dark." I repeated, grabbing his hand. Sherlock was always a bit nicer to me than Mycroft. _

"_Do you want me to sleep with you?" I shook my head, looking down. _

"_No, my bed's not big enough for both of us."_

"_How about I stay in there until you fall asleep?" I nodded, going back to my room, stopping at the door to wait for Sherlock. _

_I saw him grab his violin and he followed me, walking in front of me. _

_We entered my room, and it didn't seem as dark. I climbed onto my bed, pulling the covers up to my nose. Sherlock started to play softly, so it didn't disturb anyone. _

_It was so soothing. At the time, it calmed me down, and I wasn't scared anymore. I smiled faintly, before I fell asleep. And any time after that, he always played that song if I was scared. It always meant my brother was there, and everything would be fine. _

I stopped in my tracks, making John look at me. I stared at Sherlock, just listening. I was feeling better the more he played.

He really did care, didn't he?

He turned to me, after finishing the song. I never really heard the end, I was always asleep by then.

"Why are you wearing my clothes?"

"I needed something to sleep in." I told him. John smiled at me, and I furrowed my brow in confusion.

"What?"

"You look like a little kid." I looked down at myself, and my baggy clothing. I smiled back at him, with a laugh.

"I guess I do. I've always been the short one." I admitted, pulling at the bottom of the shirt. I shuffled over to Sherlock, and hugged him briefly, before going over to hug John as well.

"Good night. Thank you for helping me." I whispered, going back to Sherlock's room.

I fell into bed, wrapping myself up in a cocoon of blankets. I exhaled, hearing Sherlock start to play again.

And just like when I was little, I fell asleep before it ended.


	5. The Day After

_I shivered, tucking my face down deeper into my scarf. It was snowing, and the sky was covered in light, feathery clouds. _

_I giggled, chasing after Sherlock and Mycroft. I had finally convinced them to come outside and play with me in the snow. _

_Mycroft was sixteen, Sherlock was nine, and I was six. It had been quite the challenge to get Mycroft out here, and away from his homework, but it was worth it. _

"_Mikey, come help me and Sherlock build a snowman!" I laughed, attempting to throw a clump of snow at him. With a quick side step at the last moment, he avoided the snow with a frown._

"_Stop calling me that. My name is Mycroft." I pouted, crossing my arms. Sherlock looked up from his work, to watch us. He had started the bottom section, and was halfway done. _

_Mycroft sighed, starting his own ball or snow. I smiled, trying to make my own. Sherlock shook snow out of his curly hair, and helped me. I giggled, rolling it until it was a good size. _

_Mycroft made the bottom, waiting for us to finish. Sherlock picked his section up, and put it on as the body. I tried to put the head on, but I was too short. _

_I pouted, jumping up to see the top. Sherlock picked me up by my wait with a grin, and helped me put the head on. _

_I carefully put the ball of snow on top, trying not to knock it over. It stuck! _

_I clapped my hands, hugging Sherlock as he put me down. He laughed, balling up snow again._

"_Wait, he needs clothes!" I interrupted, causing Mycroft to roll his eyes, but I didn't notice it at the time. _

_I wrapped my scarf around the snowman's neck, and went back to Mycroft, and held up my light blue, knit hat for him to put on the snowman. _

_He did so reluctantly, and Sherlock found a few rocks for eyes and a nose. Sherlock grinned, and I smiled back with my semi-toothless grin. _

"_Thank you, Sherly!" I giggled. He made a face at me, but didn't complain. We stood back, and admired our work. _

_He looked a bit top heavy, thanks to me, but he looked good all the same. Mycroft smirked, I had never really seen him smile. I put my hands on my hips proudly, and I heard our mother call us in. _

"_Violette! You'll catch a cold if you keep giving your snowman your clothes! Mikey, can you bring them in? I made hot chocolate for you all." She called, popping her head out. _

_I squealed in delight, and grabbed my two brothers' hands to drag them inside. Mycroft pulled his hand away gently, marching over to retrieve my hat and scarf. _

_I hadn't even noticed, and I ran inside with Sherlock at my side, wanting that hot chocolate. _

_The scent of chocolate floated through the air and I ran into the kitchen where my mother was. Her light blonde hair was up in a messy bun, and smile lines showed on her slightly aged face. _

"_Oh, look at you! Your lips are blue. I told you so to stay outside so long, Vi." She chided, unzipping my puffy coat. I pouted at her, shaking off my gloves. _

"_I wanted to play with Mikey and Sherly! I never get to play with them anymore!" I pouted, looking up at her. She frowned, but quickly got rid of it to help Sherlock out of his coat. _

"_I can do it myself." He objected, pulling his gloves off. She smiled at him, and went back to the hot chocolate. _

_Mycroft came in, throwing my things on the table. I hugged his waist, looking at him cheerfully._

"_Thanks for playing with me! Can we play again later too?" I asked hopefully. He cracked a grin and nodded slightly. I cheered, hugging him tighter. _

"_Hey, don't you want to play with me?" Sherlock asked, pulling his coat on the table. I nodded, running over to hug him too. _

_Mother awed, and handed us each a mug of hot chocolate. I thanked her with a grin, and blew on it so it wouldn't burn my lips. I put my mug on the dining table, and climbed onto a seat. _

_Sherlock sat on my right, and Mycroft sat across from me. I glanced at them, and opened my mouth to ask Sherlock about the violin. He had started learning that spring. _

_Car horns and people talking broke through, but everyone else acted like nothing happened. I looked around curiously, but the room was started to fade away. _

The sound of the busy London road blared through the fog of slumber, shaking me out of my dream. I sighed, pulling the covers up.

The soft footsteps from the other room told me Sherlock was up, and the crinkling of paper told me John was as well. I got up, not bothering to change.

Honestly, I couldn't really remember why I was here. Oh, that's right. I had come here for help.

"G'morning." I mumbled, shuffling into the living room. John looked up from the paper, eye brows raised.

"Morning. How are you feeling, Violette?" He asked. I shrugged, falling into my brother's chair.

"Sleepy." I muttered, rubbing my eyes. John chuckled, handing me a cup of coffee. I smiled gratefully, taking the cup.

I thought back to my dream, and how cute we used to be. Except Mycroft, I don't think he was ever a child. Sherlock spun around, hands in his robe pockets.

"Get dressed, we're going out."

"But I have work today." I told him tiredly, squinting because of the sunlight.

"No you don't."

"What?"

"I resigned for you. It's not good for people in your condition to be working in a place like that. From now on you'll be working with John and I. You can deduce as well as me, clever, quick, and from what your former co-workers tell me, you are quite good at defending yourself."

"Kickboxing, and Aikido. Couldn't you tell?" I teased.

"So, are you going to work with us?"

/\\\\\

I changed into my clothes from yesterday, not really caring all that much. I wouldn't be seeing the same people, who would know?

John told me about Van Coon being dead. To be honest, I didn't expect that. And he also told me there had been two more Sumire murders. I guess we wouldn't be hearing much more about those.

"Van Coon had been away three days, and apparently had something in his luggage according to Sherlock. He was being threatened as well, that's what the graffiti meant. And we found a black origami lotus in his mouth." He explained as I tied my curly, brunette hair up.

"You were right, Violette." Sherlock cut in, as he entered the room, fully dressed.

"About what?"

"The killer can climb." So they do have a death wish.

"What accounts was he in charge of?" I asked, letting my hands fall to my sides.

"Hong Kong." John supplied. I nodded, tenting my fingers.

"Maybe the graffiti was Chinese? The first symbol looks like the Japanese character for the number one. They borrowed a lot of characters. Plus it makes sense if he had the Hong Kong accounts." I suggested, looking at the pictures that Sherlock took.

Sherlock nodded in thought, sitting gracefully into another seat. I smirked, proud that I could help. I mean, logically, it made sense.

John got up with a sigh, tossing his paper on the table. _Job interview._

"Where are you applying?" I asked, causing him to look at me in surprise.

"A surgery. It's a bit mundane compared to what I used to do, but, I need the job." He admitted. I smiled.

"Good luck. I'm sure you'll get it. Right, Sherlock?" I asked, turning to my brother.

"Hm?"

"See? Alright, go get 'em! Don't want to be late, now do we?" I said with a chuckle. John smiled at me, pulling on his jacket.

"Thanks, Violette." We said our good byes and he hurried off to his interview.

I stared into space for a while, thinking about the graffiti. Surely it was Chinese? I couldn't figure out the second one though, it didn't look familiar. I learned Japan thanks to Adeline. I was completely lost, but she luckily saw me and helped me out.

My thoughts went back to Adeline. She was probably worried. Especially since I was acting so weird yesterday.

Hopefully she wasn't too upset though, I hate to make a fuss. I sighed, glancing up at the symbols again.

"You've been sighing a lot." Sherlock commented.

"Not really." I objected.

"Five times in five minutes? That's hardly normal."

"I just have a lot on my mind."

"I'll come with you to get your things later."

"What things?" Sherlock gave me a look and I understood.

He was going to get the drugs.

Hopefully that would help, but I was afraid I would go out and buy more. What was stopping me?

I silently thanked him, going back to thinking. I heard him muttering something, and pace around a little bit, before sitting back down to stare at the pictures again.

John came back, hanging his coat up. I greeted him, asking him how it went.

"Good, good. It great. She's great." He answered, looking at the photos himself. I smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Who?" Sherlock questioned. John looked back at him.

"The job."

"_She?_"

"_It._" He clarified. I chuckled, rolling my eyes. The interviewer had been a woman. Easy. Sherlock gestured for John to look at his computer. I hadn't noticed he even had it opened.

"'The intruder who can walk through walls.'?"

"Happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his flat. Doors locked, windows bolted from the inside." Sherlock told him.

"Exactly the same as Van Coon." I whispered. Sherlock jumped up after a silent moment, grabbing his coat. I pulled on my own, tying my scarf. John followed suit, and chased after us down the stairs.

/\\\\\

We pulled up to Scotland Yard, Sherlock leading the charge. I was curious to see how he would pull off getting into that flat.

We were taken to a man's office, where we waited for a few minutes before he actually showed up.

He had light, blonde hair, and uninterested grey eyes. He had an expectant look, as he looked at my brother, like he thought he was wasting his time.

"Brian Lukis, freelance journalist, murdered in his flat, door locked from the inside." Sherlock said, showing this Detective Inspector Dimmock the article on his laptop.

"Remind you of anyone?" I asked, tapping my chin in mock wonder. Dimmock looked at me with pursed lips, turning his attention back to Sherlock.

"Both men killed by someone who can walk through solid walls." John pointed out.

"Inspector, do you seriously believe that Eddie Van Coon was just another city suicide?" Sherlock asked. He sighed a moment later, when the D.I didn't respond.

"You have seen the ballistics report, I suppose?" Dimmock nodded. Oh, that's right. Van Coon had a gun with him, and was shot on the right side of the head, and from what John told me, he was left handed. How was this man a D.I?

"Was the shot from his gun?" I snapped, tired of this idiot. Sherlock smirked slightly, but quickly hid it.

"No." Dimmock admitted. I crossed my arms, looking at him impatiently.

"So, this investigation might move a bit quicker if you were to take my word as gospel." My brother added, his impatience becoming clear as well. There was another silent moment, and Sherlock leaned forward.

"I've just handed you a murder inquiry." He whispered, before his tone picked up again. "Five minutes in his flat."

Next thing I knew, we were on our way to Lukis' flat.

It seemed pretty ordinary, save for the police tape and excessive amount of books. I didn't really pick up anything of importance, but there was a black origami lotus.

I picked it up, gently, closely examining it. This defiantly connected Lukis with Van Coon. The window was also open. Sherlock went over to it, and smiled.

"Four floors up. That's why they think they're safe. Violette, you were defiantly right." Sherlock said, brushing past Dimmock.

"I don't understand." He stammered. I rolled my eyes, following my brother.

"Of course you don't. We're dealing with a killer that can climb." I handed Sherlock the lotus, and he looked at it closely. He picked up a few books as well.

The next stop, was the West Kensington Library. The date in the book was the same date Lukis died. Something at the library spooked him. Perhaps the symbols again?

Sherlock lead us to where the book belonged. He pushed books out of the way, looking at the titles.

"Sherlock, Violette." John interrupted, pulling out of few books on the opposite bookshelf. It was the same symbols!

/\\\\\

The later that day, I went back to my flat, to find Ade was home. I smiled, and let Sherlock in. Ade popped out of her room, and smiled at me.

"I was wondering when you'd be back." She greeted walking over to us. I smiled and gestured to Sherlock.

"Ade, this is my brother, Sherlock. Sherlock, this is Adeline." He shook her hand, and she smiled at him.

"You're from Japan?" My brother asked. She nodded. Her accent was still pretty noticeable.

"Yes, I'm from Sendai. I met Vi there a few years ago." I smiled, grabbing Sherlock's hand before he deduced her.

"All of it's over there." I told him, pointing to the drawer. He strolled over, opening it and steadily taking out the box. I looked away, covering my eyes. His footsteps got closer, and I felt him kiss my forehead.

"I'll be back tomorrow. Try not to think about it." He said, and left the room. I heard Ade say good bye to him, and the door open and close. I sighed, throwing my coat on my bed, and kicking my shoes off.

I felt like I could finally relax without it so close to me. I heard someone knock on the door, and it open again. I thought it might be Sherlock, but the laughs coming from the living proved to be female.

I rolled my eyes, it must be my little rogues.

Annicka and Piper.

They were pretty reliable, since most people liked them and spilled their guts to them. They just had that kind of charm.

Piper was tall, with warm brown eyes, and long, light brown hair. She was the quieter of the two, but she was quite good at what she did.

She was a little naïve, and trusting, but that's what drew people to her. She was very loyal as well, a good person to have under you. Once you get to k now her though, she can be pretty sarcastic.

Annicka on the other hand, was more of a direct smart arse. She took life as it was, but you could tell she was hiding something. She was always easy to talk to, making her a good informant.

She had long, curly red hair and darker brown eyes framed by glasses. She was pale, and not as tall, but she was pretty. She could be sent to get information at any time, and no matter who it was, you could guarantee you would get a result.

"Boss, where've you been? Cyrus and Melody asked us to check on you since you didn't answer their calls!" Annicka said, with a slight frown.

"Yeah. We were getting worried." Piper added, crossing her arms. I smiled apologetically.

"Sorry. I lost my phone a while ago. Why, has anything happened?" I asked, taking a seat in my grey chair. Piper and Annicka sat down at the indigo love seat that was diagonal from me, and directly facing the telly. Ade sat down in her grey chair, across the coffee table from me.

"Yes. A man at the charity was killed. And I was hoping your brother could help. I've heard he's quite the detective." Piper said, looking hopeful. I scoffed at her, crossing my arms.

"I'm a pretty good detective myself. Perhaps I'll look into it. Who was killed?" I asked. Piper looked sheepish, playing with the ends of her sleeves.

"Eliza. She helped take care of some of the homeless. She was really kind too." She told me. My heart stopped, and I tented my fingers in front of my face to hide my worried frown.

"This is interesting. Is there anything you can tell me about her death?"

"It was one of those Sumire killings. Knife to the heart, and she was found with a violet and a note in Japanese." Piper told me, looking a bit squeamish. I sighed, stretching my arms.

"Sherlock is already on those cases, Piper. I said I would assist him with them though. I'll work extra hard on it, just for you." I told her, with a confident grin. Annicka scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Well if we had known that, we wouldn't have asked. I knew her too. Piper's right. She was kind. And she helped me when I tripped going to pick Piper up." Annicka sighed. I nodded, glancing at Adeline. She looked at me firmly, like she wanted me to tell them.

_No. Eliza got what she deserved. She worked for him. _

"I promise. I'll catch your killer. So, do you two have any information?"

Nothing new, except that Cyrus got a new car.

He worked as a journalist, and was a pretty well-known one too. He wrote articles for the stocks, and economy, things like that.

Melody apparently was working on a new book. She was pretty well-known as well. She hung out with celebrities, and went to tea with soccer players. She was pretty influential when it came to people. Melody was quite pretty too. She had honey blonde hair, and big beautiful blue eyes.

She had glasses with thick frames, and she usually wore her long hair in a braid. She was tall, and had more than enough equipment to get what she wanted. Melody Crane.

Cyrus was platinum blonde, with light blue eyes, and was as tall as Sherlock. His face was more angled, and had expressive eyebrows. He smiled most of the time, and the ladies loved him, but sometimes I think he is under a little too much pressure. Cyrus Hartly.

Cyrus and Melody were my two best spies. Of course, they loved to work with me. I met them in high school, when we were all put in the same group to do a project sophomore year.

"Hey, Vi? Are you listening?" Annicka asked, waving a hand in my face. I blinked in surprise, smiling at her a moment later.

"Of course. Tell Mel and Cyrus I'm fine, and if they really want to see me, come themselves. I do like to see them." I said, getting up. Adeline narrowed her eyes, getting up as well. Piper and Annicka rose as well, the red head stretching for a long five seconds.

"Alright. I'll tell 'em. See ya 'round, boss." Annicka said, putting her hands in her hoodie pocket. Piper pulled on her pink knit hat, pulling her hands into her over-sized sweater sleeves.

"Bye, Violette." She mumbled, following her friend. Adeline bid them farewell, as did I, and they quietly shut the door behind them.

"Why didn't you tell them?" Adeline asked, crossing her arms. I shrugged.

"Not important."

"You killed their _friend_. And you not going to tell them?"

"What? Are you? I don't think so, Adeline." I hissed. She took a step back, running her hands through her bangs.

"That's what I though."

/\\\\\

The next day, I avoided Sherlock and John taking a little bit of a break from them. Adeline stayed far away from me too, which I found to be entertaining.

Anthea showed up at around five, to take me to where ever Mycroft wanted me to go. I was more than a little bit nervous.

What if it was a trick to turn me in? No, he wouldn't do that.

Anthea laughed, looking at the screen of her phone. I rolled my eyes, leaning on the car door. She was getting a bit annoying.

"Hello, sister. That was quite a show you put on with Sherlock. Finally giving it up?"

"Oh, shut up, you condescending arsehole." I snapped, crossing my arms.

"What did you want?" I sighed, letting my arms fall to my sides. He rolled his eyes, leading me to a room with a girl in it. It was the one-way glass, so she couldn't see us.

"This is Cindy Delainey. She'll be taking the blame for the Sumire murders. She's been to japan frequently, and has a record of blackmail and robberies. I assume this is alright with you?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. I nodded, and we moved one.

A man with cleanly cut hair, and a fancy suit handed me a file. It had a photo inside, of a geasy looking man, and a ton of information on him.

"Louis Roberts. Your first target." He explained briefly. I nodded, tucking it under my arm.

"And of course, I've saved that real reason you're hear for last." Mycroft said, walking down a hallway.

It was grey, and dark. The walls and floor were concrete, and there were only a few florescent lights to illuminate it. Over all it had a cold, sterile feeling like a prison.

We stopped at a metal door, and Mycroft looked at me one more time before opening it. The door creaked open and I was met, with the man I had been hunting for so long.

"Hello, dear Violette."


End file.
